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When the Other Man Asked Him Did He Pray

He kept driving, the storefronts a shoulder-to-shoulder forest he couldn't
       see around.
All those miles down the boulevard, numbers counting down by twos.
And the field opening where the buildings end, and light settling over the
       lengthening eye.
And wind across the tops of bluestem and the lives of insects.
And all animals in the grass, even birds, moving in their own ways under
       the sun.
And on the horizon, something like his shadow walking, something small
       as a daytime star against the blue moving up and down over the far
       line of earth.

Richard Robbins

A Public Space

Issue 26 - 2017

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